


Dancing On His Shoes

by Marqania



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 17:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4109524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marqania/pseuds/Marqania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Princess Daisy is serenaded by her two favorite knights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rodgers and Hammerstein in Phonetic Punctuation

**Author's Note:**

> \- Bag Of Cats -
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Making random connections between Kingsman and the world since sometime last week. 

It was a lovely neighborhood Eggsy’d chosen for his family. Relatively quiet, parks and shops and good schools within walking distance, pubs where the clientele were less likely to throw a punch or a pint glass. Not too far from Harry’s place either, which allowed the two men to share a cab to work. Harry regarded the rugby game in one such park the cab passed on his way to the Unwins', readjusting his glasses and ruminating while the sunshine cast moving, dappled shadows from the branches overhead.

He had been a little disappointed when Michelle had chosen to move her family out of his house when he returned, but the feeling was eased greatly when Eggsy himself had staked a permanent claim on his guest bedroom. It was for the best, mother and son had decided, for them to give Daisy an additional buffer from ‘tailor’s work.’ The Unwins' new home also allowed them to keep Eggsy’s old friends in his life without letting them too close to the delicate information and equipment at Harry’s.

Harry’s help with Mrs. Unwin’s divorce from Dean had gone a long way in improving relations between the two of them, though she still visibly strained to keep her concern over and occasional disapproval of ‘shop business’ in check. Harry was, therefore, mildly surprised when the door to the Unwin home opened before he had a chance to knock.

“Mr. Hart.”

“Mrs. Unwin.”

“Eggsy will be down in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

Michelle grinned, the mischief in her face equalling that of her son’s. “Go on up, and be quiet about it.”

“Pardon - ?” 

“Shoo, before you miss it.”

_Miss what?_ Harry made his way up the stairs on silent feet, listening for Eggsy’s voice.

He heard Daisy’s instead. “Up!”

“Oof, you’re getting bigger,” Eggsy replied, apparently complying with the demand. “Wanna hear a song with the commas 'fore I go?” _What?_

A giggle. “I like kwesshin marks best!” Harry smiled through his confusion.

“Yeah? Hm.”

Imagine Harry’s surprise when he heard the young man sing.

_We’ve just been introduced_  
_I do not know you well_  
_But when the music started something drew me to your side_  
_So many men and girls_  
_Are in each others’ arms_  
_It made me think_  
_We might be_  
_Similarly occupied_

Harry took a quick peek into the little girl’s bedroom, where Eggsy stood at the window, rocking Daisy to the beat as she snuggled contentedly in his arms.

_Shall we dance - schrrk, ptt?_

Daisy laughed, delighted. Harry was hard-pressed to contain his own amusement.

_On a bright cloud of music shall we fly - schrrk, ptt?_  
_Shall we dance - schrrk, ptt?_  
_Shall we then say goodnight and mean goodbye - schrrk, ptt?_

Question marks. Of course. The Great Dane. _Full of surprises, indeed._

_Or perchance - hweurk,_  
_When the last little star has left the sky - hweurk,_  
_Shall we still be together_  
_With our arms around each other_  
_And shall you be my new romance - schrrk, ptt?_  
_On the clear understanding that this kind of thing can happen_  
_Shall we dance - hweurk,_  
_Shall we dance - hweurk,_  
_Shall we dance - schrrk, ptt?_

“Charming rendition.”

“Harry!” Eggsy blushed at having been caught. His face grew redder when his glasses chirruped in his pocket. “Sh-aah, you haven’t gotten that recorded, have you?”

Merlin was still cackling in Harry’s ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s turn next time. Look up videos of Victor Borge and Dean Martin if you're curious.
> 
> Yeah. Turns out I’m not a fan of Dead Harry. I am, however, wary of a badly done resurrection being detrimental to an awesome story. If the powers that be decide to revive Harry Hart in the next Kingsman, those writers had better be good.
> 
> In terms of Eggsy’s sister’s name, I’ve only got the movie to refer to, so until I can get a copy of the graphic novel, it’s Daisy. Although I think an argument could be made that “oh my days” is an expression of surprise related to the passage of time and subsequent aging, rather than a contraction of the little one’s name.
> 
> Share your thoughts, reader, if you like.
> 
> Edited to tidy up.


	2. Dean Martin in Payback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which research unveils interesting links and disturbing truths.

Eggsy blinked awake with a deep breath, taking stock of his surroundings  
_(sandydamaskedwallpaperframedkitschaftershaveJ.B.snufflingbeneaththesofahomehomehome)_  
and smiling into the gray light of morning. He heard his sister fuss somewhere in the house and checked the clock on the mantelpiece, wincing as the motion pulled at a strained muscle in his shoulder.

Five thirty. Mum and Daisy came over to Harry’s last night to welcome Eggsy home from a 'business trip.' Eggsy got delayed in - _sorry, classified_. The ladies used his room.

He allowed himself to fall back into a doze beneath his blanket, entertaining himself with the memory of his last mission _(bad guys look so good hanging upside down next to theater sandbags)_ as he checked on other aches and pains _(rope burn on his left wrist and a bruise from scapula to left knee)_. He smiled, listening to Daisy talk about elephants and chewing on the coffee table as she toddled down the stairs next to another adult.

“Hush, Daisy.” Harry. “Your big brother’s trying to sleep.”

“Oh - ” Eggsy heard the faint slap of two little hands over a little mouth. Daisy’s next words came out as an exaggerated stage whisper as they moved into the kitchen. “Ca’ we have apples for breck-fuss?”

“ _May_ we.”

“May we have apples for breck-fuss?”

“Certainly. Would you like them in wedges or rounds?”

“Dey hafta be on da butta, an' den on da hunny, an’ den you hafta be careful wit’ ya fingas cos’ it might muck up da crayons an’ den dey don’ write propah.”

"Properly." Harry chuckled. "Wedges it is, then." Eggsy drifted closer to true sleep, surrounded by warmth both literal and figurative. 

_She doesn’t make a bit of sense but does it matter_

Eggsy's eyes shot open in surprise. Harry was singing, softly.

_Her smile could charm the little fishes from the sea_

And Daisy was giggling into her hands.

_I’m in her arms and all at once that silly chatter_

Eggsy rose quietly, slipped his glasses on and peeked into the dining room just as Harry swept his sister up, up into a hug.

_Begins to sound like she was reading poetry_

He grinned, tapping a code into his frames as Harry bounced Daisy along with the song.

_They call the lady Giuggiola, Giuggiola, Giuggiola_  
_And I’m in love with Giuggiola, Giuggiola_  
_If she says day is night_

Harry placed one hand over Daisy’s eyes.

_Then the sunshine is moonlight_

Daisy yanked the hand off.

_I wouldn’t say that I hear music_  
_Every time she sighs_

Harry held Daisy’s hand like a gentleman in a waltz.

_But every time she sighs_  
_I wanna dance_

Harry twirled round with the little girl laughing in his arms, shushing her gently.

_I wanna dance with Giuggiola, Giuggiola, Giuggiola_  
_I wanna hold her close to me, close to me_  
_Closer than my skin_

Daisy patted Harry’s cheeks, making a face at the stubble. “Blah. Shayff.”

_‘Til our two hearts are one heart_

Eggsy snuck closer for a better look, smiling at the swish of fabric beyond the entryway to the dining room.

_Giuggiola, Giuggiola_  
_Can make my heart go cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-cha_  
_And I will care for Giuggiola for the rest of my life_ \- “Eggsy.”

He grinned widely at his mentor from his perch on the pass-through. “Harry.”

“Don’t suppose you’d be so kind as to keep this encounter between us?”

“Don’t suppose I should be, but…” He tapped his glasses. “You, me, Dais and your laptop.”

Michelle, however, was not so generous. From her position near the stairs, she made a recording for Roxy, who shared it with Merlin, who changed the ringtone on Harry’s phone and got Eggsy laughing like a loon in the cab later that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually came about first. Thought Harry Hart would enjoy Victor Borge, an indubitably gentlemanly old kook. Looked up videos of Victor Borge. Watched him sing and crack up with Dean Martin on [one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnDZ3a1WoQw) of them. Looked up lyrics to Dean Martin’s songs. Came across the song [“Giuggiola.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-W-vQjdi52c) Remembered from previous research that Colin Firth’s wife’s family name is Giuggioli. Disturbing truth implied by my researching Colin Firth, shut up I regret nothing. (Ohm conscious separation between perceptions of a character and the actor who plays him ohm.) Hence the decision to give Dean and Victor’s song to Eggsy, and “Giuggiola” to Harry.
> 
> Share your thoughts, reader, if you like.


End file.
